What Makes Draco
by Lyndal
Summary: Draco is torn between duty to his father and Voldemort, and his need to be himself.


What Makes Draco

Rating: M

Summary: Draco is torn between duty to his father and Voldemort, and his need to be himself.

Warnings: Graphic scene, blood, swearing

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or related characters.

* * *

Part 1 – The beginning

I didn't kill him. I was too afraid of the repercussions after this is all over. Like bloody Potter, I look forward to a peaceful time again. Dumbledore is dead, from a man they all thought was an ally. I thought he was supposed to take care of me, an Unbreakable Vow from my mother. Maybe him fulfilling my duty was part of the bargain.

My father is in prison, betrayed by both the "good" and the "bad". My mother is on the run, abandoning me, saying that she will find me when this is all over. My aunt has likewise abandoned me, saying that I should've been honoured by a request from the Dark Lord. I don't want to be a Death Eater, not anymore.

"Pure" wizard blood. Sometimes I'm jealous of Potter's history – the Potters were the most generous pure-blooded wizards in England. They were the model family, and the last of their pure line was James Potter – married a mudblood, produced mudblood-loving Potter. Sometimes I'm jealous of the Weasleys – blood traitors! At least their parents don't abandon them in their time of need. I know they're just as mixed up in this war as mine, but faring much better.

My blood? I'm a Black along the maternal line – my mother: Narcissa Black. I'm related to most of the wizarding world: Weasleys, Potters, Blacks, Flints, Burkes, Prewitts, even bloody Longbottom! I may be a decendent, but the direct line was Sirius Black – the third so named. After his death, Black heritage was supposed to pass to Auntie Bellatrix, but once again it passed by – Harry bloody Potter.

Dumbledore offered me a way out – before I got in deeper. He could've hidden me away, hidden my mother, made sure my father wasn't killed. I'll take his offer, even though he does not extend that branch anymore. They all know it wasn't me. I hope old grudges and rivalries don't cloud this, I hope they take me in.

* * *

Draco Malfoy, a seventeen-year-old Slytherin on the run from it all, arrived back at Hogwarts. A smaller student body from the war, more people dead. He was sure he would be ran out of the place. However, Dumbledore's rule still ran deep, and Hogwarts remained a safe-haven for all who searched it.

"Mr Malfoy, if you would walk with me a moment," Professor McGonagall called, grabbing Malfoy by the robes and pulling him forcefully towards the headmaster's office. Inside, he knew he would be questioned by past headmaster and ancestor Phineus Nigellus Black – the most hated of all Hogwarts headmasters.

"Why Draco? What possessed you to join him?"

Everyone he knew that were against him asked this. They never stopped in their questioning, most people saying that he was responsible. He ignored it all these days, too afraid to open his mouth.

"Professor, I want to hide," Draco said simply, devoid of emotion, devoid of his usual sliminess sarcasm. The woman nodded, knowing this was coming up. There was one witness to the conversation between Dumbledore and the youngest Malfoy.

"Dobby!" the professor called, a house elf appearing with a crack.

"Headmistress calls?"

"Summon Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Remus Lupin, and Nymphradora Tonks."

"Dobby shall obey for Headmistress McGonagall!" Dobby said, disappearing with another loud crack.

"You may be wondering why I summoned your 'greatest enemies' here to help you, Mr Malfoy," the professor said, "it is quite ironic that those whom you have sort to hate are the only ones who have the greatest chance of helping you."

Draco remained silent, his grey eyes, McGonagall noticed, lacked their usual spark. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him, a child of so much promise, yet so much influence had already corrupted him by the time he had entered the magical school of Hogwarts.

The group of six teenagers and two adults entered the office, sitting in the chairs that the headmistress had conjured. She noticed the sneer on Ron Weasley's face, the look of contempt on Miss Granger's, the blank look upon Harry's. Yes, the trio of Gryffindor seventh years had had their fair share of Draco Malfoy during the years – no one encounter ever good.

"I have called you all here as Draco Malfoy has requested compassion," McGonagall began, noting the looks on the faces before her. She cleared her throat; "Mr Potter, I know that you witnessed the conversation between Dumbledore – rest his soul – and young Mr Malfoy last year, and as you are all part of this, you shall be the judges."

"Professor, I," Malfoy began. McGonagall shushed him with her hand.

"It is only fair that you are judged by your relations and peers," she said, nodding towards the group. Yes, Draco was a distant relation of nearly every single person in the office – closer to Tonks than any of the others.

"Draco, speak your case," Tonks said in a soft voice. He looked at her, his cousin which no one would speak of as she was blasted off the family tapestry for her mother marrying a muggle. He wasn't sure what her real features were as she was able to morph her features into anything at will. Today, her hair was dark purple and in two braids – it seemed rather childish to Draco, associating pigtails and more than one braid to little girls still in the phase of tea-parties and dolls.

"I know you probably don't care whether I live or die," Draco began, his voice strange to Harry without the sarcasm. "But I need help, and you all know that I hesitated when… Dumbledore… but I'm taking him up on his offer of safe haven."

"What about for your mother and father?" Harry asked, knowing full well the conversation that took place. Draco shook his head.

"I know that my father is being… cared for in Azkaban, but my mother has left the country, where I don't know," he said, shuffling his feet. Ginny Weasley looked a little sorry for him, unsure whether it was alright to feel that way. Her brother had told her many times to stay away from Malfoy – and her experience with his father in the second year strengthened the caution.

"You're wanted along with the rest of them," Hermione commented, cautiously looking at the young man who had caused her many nights of sorrows.

"I am pretty sure that Draco will not be a threat," Lupin said, his haggard appearance magnified in the light of the office. Draco found himself comparing Lupin to Fenir Greyback's human appearance, Greyback more fierce than the kindly Lupin.

'Perhaps I don't have much to lose by letting him hide me,' Draco thought, trying to see the brighter side of the matter. Yet it was up to them to decide.

"Professor, do you mind if we talk about this in another room for a few moments, just to get the facts straight?" Tonks asked, peering beyond Draco's eyes and into the dark depths of his mind, as if trying to find a kinder young man behind the Malfoy exterior. McGonagall agreed and watched as the group filed out. 

"I don't know, he's been a real git to us ever since first year, he loathes Harry, hates my family, and calls Hermione names," Ron said, anger evident in his voice.

"We know he didn't murder Dumbledore, that was all Snape even though Malfoy was charged with that duty by You-Know-Who," Neville said, nervously biting his lip and twiddling his thumbs.

"The safest place for him at the time being is at Grimmauld Place," Harry said. An uproar from Ron, Hermione and Ginny sounded like an explosion. Harry silenced them.

"Come off it, it's my house and under all the protections it is under – which I remind you are no longer tied to the Black bloodline – it is the safest place for him," he said, trying to soothe his friends' anger.

"He's right," Lupin said, "no matter what Draco tried to do, the house and all in it would still obey Harry."

"We can keep an eye on him," Luna said mistily, even though she had her fair share of reasons to try and keep Malfoy away.

"It's settled," Harry said, looking between Ron and Hermione for support. They nodded, accepting a defeat as well as a new advantage.

"You never know," Tonks stated, "that cousin of mine may be of some help yet."

* * *

Number twelve Grimmauld Place was a different dwelling of late. The Black family tapestry still sat in place, but with the 'blasted' names reinstated upon the silk, and the addition of Harry Potter to the line – whose great aunt Dorea was a descendent of the Black line.

A new house elf had taken up residence, a curious female elf named Florie, whom Hermione gave an allowance of coloured balls of wool as 'payment' for her services. Harry had argued that the poor elf was terrified of Hermione's ideas, but was grateful for the wool that she used to knit items for the occupants of Number Twelve.

"Master Harry told Florie to bring yous breakfast," she told the newest occupant Draco Malfoy.

"I don't want it," he argued, knowing it was futile to argue with a house elf whose master had given her a mission.

"Master told me you must eat!" she squealed. Draco slumped and snatched the tray from the tiny elf. He ate slowly, watched by the wide-eyed elf that ensured that he ate every single bite. When he had done, she ensured that he was dressed and was in the library.

In the library sat Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood, pouring over a copy of '_Teen Witch_' magazine, whilst Neville Longbottom was trying to study the properties of an unknown herb. No one paid attention to Draco's entrance until he slumped into a chair set up with the chess set.

"You want to play?" Ginny asked, emotion devoid from her comment. Draco gave a non-committal nod, and the red-head made her way to the elegant set. The pawns were decorated with the Black crest, whilst the Kings and Queens were in the likeness of the first founders of the house.

The two set up, ensuring that each piece would do as the rules permitted. The game began, with Ginny – the white pieces – moving a pawn forward. As the game progressed, Luna sidled her way over to watch the evenly matched game. Both had lost three pawns, with Ginny losing a rook, and Draco a knight.

The game had eventually drawn a crowd: Neville had long since abandoned his research, whilst Tonks, Hermione, Mrs Weasley, and Lupin had slowly filtered in during the marathon. It was nearing dinner when the rest of the occupants of Number Twelve came to look for the 'missing' members of their party.

It had come to a stalemate, with both sides reluctantly shaking hands and congratulating each on their well-timed and thought out tactics. Ron shook his head, knowing that his sister had possibly far surpassed his chess skills – an apparent Weasley trait. Tonks nodded towards her cousin, helping Mrs Weasley usher the small crowd into the large dining room that was increasingly needed as people asked for safe haven, and members of the Order of the Phoenix filtered in and out as their quests endeavoured them to.

After dinner, Harry pulled Draco aside and they walked into the study. Draco, not used to being bossed around by someone he considered 'beneath' him, allowed to be pulled along by the young man who had offered safe haven even though they were 'sworn enemies'.

"I'm not asking you to join us, I'm just going to ask you if you'd like to cooperate with our intelligence, just what you know," Harry explained. Draco shook his head.

"Look Potter, I'm grateful that you're offering me safety, but I just won't tell you anything… not yet." Harry nodded and walked out with Draco.

"You were right about me…" Harry said before they parted ways. Draco looked up, confused.

"Before we were sorted, I'm guessing that you hoped that I would end up in Slytherin." Draco nodded, unable to say a word.

"I would've – the Hat told me so – but I spose that's what sets me apart from Voldemort," Draco flinched at the sound of the Dark Lord's name, just as most other wizards would've done. Harry left by turning right towards the library, whilst Draco decided that the living room would be a quieter option.

'Perhaps Nymphradora will be there…'

* * *

A few days had passed, and it was time for Harry, Hermione and Ron to depart for what Draco knew was a trip for the Order. Ginny said goodbye with tears in her eyes as her brother, sister-figure, and ex-boyfriend stepped into the entrance hall of Number Twelve wearing travelling cloaks and each with a seemingly small backpack.

Tonks, as equally as teary as Ginny, embraced the three and watched with the others as they said their goodbyes. Ron was whispering frantically to Ginny, while Hermione rolled her eyes at something Mrs Weasley had said. Harry stood with Lupin, giving instructions on parchment.

"Tonks will inherit this all if I… don't come back," Harry explained, watching Lupin read through the parchment.

"What about Malfoy?"

"He's to stay here unless Number Twelve becomes compromised, then he is to be put under a Fidelius charm when a new hiding place is found."

"It's getting late, everyone to bed!" Mrs Weasley commanded, the inner mother coming out in a time of great need. Most obeyed and filtered off to bed, but Draco wandered off to the library.

Determined to finish his education, it was decided that Draco would take his N.E.W.Ts via correspondence. To make sure that his work was not intercepted and his hiding place compromised, one of the professors were brought to Number Twelve to set work, collect work and conduct assignments.

This week, Lupin would be delivering Defence Against the Dark Arts – as Hogwarts had not replaced the professor for that subject. Joining in would be Tonks and Ginny, depending on whether Tonks was off on some mission. Mrs Weasley, cranky that a third of her children wouldn't be completing their N.E.W.Ts, insisted that Ginny also did correspondence work.

Grumbling about the work that he had to do, Draco filled a corner of the large library with his presence. Deep in thought – as he did try to do the best he could in his studies – he scribbled a draft, crossing out sentences that didn't make sense or that contradicted his original statements.

A creaking door alerted Draco to a presence in the room. He looked at his watch and noticed it was midnight – four hours since his three peers from Gryffindor departed for their trip. Long flaming-red hair drew his attention, a green nightdress making her hair seem more red than normal.

The girl sat down, opened the book she carried and set about reading. It was obvious that she was ignoring him. As an only child, Draco did not enjoy his private time impeded upon – usually insisting that he study in his dorm alone.

He watched her curiously. She wasn't like any of the girls in his house – the girls that were always tittering and swooning over him, and that had subsequently betrayed him. She was quiet, demure, and ignoring him. That was the bit that was annoying him, as much as he liked being left alone, he didn't like being ignored.

"Aren't you going to ask me a million questions?" Draco began, "Like why I'm a prat to your brother? Why my father put that diary in your school books?"

"No," Ginny said, looking up at him with an annoyed look on her face, "why you're a prat to my brother is your problem, and why you dad did that to me was obvious – he wanted to discredit my family."

Draco scowled; another thing he wasn't used to – know-it-all girls. Hermione Granger annoyed him, not only was she smart, she was muggle-born. Muggle-borns – according to his father – were not worth enough to be included in Hogwarts. Draco was just beginning to see different, but old lessons died hard.

"Why are you up anyway?" he asked her, "your mother said that you were supposed to be in bed."

Ginny shrugged, turning back to her book. She didn't want to tell him – a rival of her brother and friends – that she couldn't sleep due to her worrying about Ron, Hermione, and Harry. She knew that this trip was dangerous, and that it was only due to Ron and Hermione's strong insistence that they went too. Also, Mrs Weasley's fearful dreams that all her family would be gone – already Bill had been disfigured beyond repair, Charlie was in hiding in Romania, Percy had abandoned them for the ministry, and Fred and George locked themselves in their shop at Diagon Alley.

Draco sighed and returned to his essay. After five minutes he through down his quill in frustration. Ginny only raised an eyebrow, not shifting her eyes from her book. He stalked over to her, determined to take a look at the book that had captured her attention.

"What kind of novel is 'Pride and Prejudice'?" he asked

"A nineteenth century muggle novel, written by a woman named Jane Austin,"

"Well that doesn't answer the question," Draco scowled. Ginny was surprised; he wanted to know what the novel was about.

"If you must know, its about a woman whose family must find husbands for her four sisters and herself so that they may be provided for upon the father's death," Ginny explained, her voice slightly sounding angry.

"And?"

"And she finds her match in the wealthy Mr Darcy – someone who originally though her beneath him due to her middle-class status, and her mother and younger sisters' silliness,

Also, her older sister is married to Mr Darcy's friend Mr Bingley – even though his sister saw Jane and the Bennets beneath their Nuevo riche status – and the youngest sister Lydia eloped with Mr Wickham, because it would've been seen as a shame to the family if she didn't,"

Draco considered it for a moment.

"So its like you marrying me – even though my family sees your family as blood traitors," he said.

"Yes," Ginny said, face flaming in anger, "you could see it that way."

"So why are you reading it?"

"Because it's a good story!"

"But it's written by a muggle,"

"Mr Malfoy, that doesn't change the fact that it's a good story,"

As far as Ginny could see, that was the end of the matter. Draco, however, became curious.

"So… you like reading muggle novels?"

"Just the classics – Ibsen, Zola, Conrad, Austin, Bronte – and the poetry: especially Browning, Coleridge, Keats and Wordsworth," Ginny replied.

Draco laughed, "You're worse than Granger!"

"You know nothing about me!" Ginny yelled, "You're just an unfeeling Death Eater who will one day be missing in dubious circumstances, you're lucky that Harry took it into his heart to extend his home to you for your protection."

With that, Ginny stormed out of the room, leaving behind a scarlet-faced Malfoy.

"Well that makes two of us Weasley, neither of us know anything about the other."

* * *

An owl arrived from Harry, Ron and Hermione the following week stating that all was well. Other than that, it contained no other details. However, Draco knew things were getting desperate, and that recent sightings of Death Eater patrols in the area confirmed that he was in more danger. The dark mark on his left forearm didn't help either – the Dark Lord would be sensing him.

Draco began – in vain – to remove the mark. He scrubbed, scratched, and tried the most abrasive potions he could find. All it left was his pale skin red, weeping, and inflamed. He turned to the books in the library, hoping for a "cure".

The night of Halloween, he resorted to the most drastic measure. He gathered bandages, water, healing balms, and a dagger. If he couldn't remove it through magic, he would cut it off.

Making sure all were in bed, he entered his room and bolted the door. Setting his equipment off, he sat down and gritted his teeth.

'This is gonna hurt…'

Draco plunged the dagger horizontally across his forearm – just above the mark. He kept hacking, cutting his arm just below the skin as if he was carving a Sunday roast. The pain was becoming unbareable, but he couldn't stop.

'Its almost done…'

He screamed in pain as a rush of blood escaped the wound. Frozen to the spot, he couldn't get himself to wrap the wound.

A knock at the door, shouts of voices penetrated the shock he felt. The door was blasted open and a petite red-head ran towards him. She tried to staunch the blood flow, wrapped the wound tight.

"You stupid, stupid boy!" she yelled, pulling him to make him stand. A slim man picked him up when he wouldn't move. Draco was placed on the bed and force-fed potion after potion. Another red-head performed charms to clean the room from the blood that had fallen.

When the adults had gone, Ginny was left to watch over Draco. He sat, comatose, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

"Why did you do that for?" Ginny asked, shaking her head. Draco still sat silently, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks. He began to rock backwards and forwards. The proud Draco Malfoy had fallen, and was replaced by a shell. A casualty of the war between good and evil.

The mark faded from the detached skin, but Draco couldn't feel if the mark was returning on his injured arm. He hoped, for his own safety, that it wouldn't come back – that he didn't have to feel the pull to join the Death Eaters whenever they were called for. He knew that the Dark Lord assumed his defection, and the next time they met Draco would be dead.

Draco felt slim arms wrap around him, his head guided down to a shoulder. His tears were still falling, and he was shaking uncontrollably. A calming voice rang out through the buzzing in his ears, telling him that he was brave. He slipped into unconsiousness.

* * *

When Mrs Weasley returned, she found her only daughter holding onto the Malfoy son who was obviously asleep.

"He's not himself anymore mum," Ginny said, almost in a whisper. Molly nodded and bustled over to the bedside table to pour more healing potions into goblets for Draco to take when he awoke.

"Just take care around him, no one's sure of his loyalties and him cutting off the Dark Mark was a sign of desperation,"

Molly left the room, leaving her daughter with the unconscious son of Lucius Malfoy. She had always wondered if that boy would see sense, that his father was wrong. She wondered about the boy's upbringing, and hoped for the safety of all her family and friends.

"Molly, may I have a word with you?" Tonks asked, her hair bubblegum pink and spikey. Mrs Weasley nodded and ushered the metamorphagi into one of the rooms in the hall. They settled themselves into chairs, and Mrs Weasley conjured up lemonade for them to drink.

"I think it's time I tell you the history of my mother and my aunts," Tonk said, swilling the liquid around in her cup. Molly nodded for her to continue, settling herself back into the chair.

"According to my mum," Tonks began, "the three were typical; Bellatrix – the oldest and bossy, Narcissa – the middle and silent, and my mum Andromeda – the youngest and most loved.

When the three were at Hogwarts, they all began their separate ways. Bella was sorted into Slytherin, as was Narcissa. My mother was sorted into Hufflepuff, a shock to the family as they were almost all sorted into Slytherin."

"But there were exceptions?" Molly asked, urging Tonks to go on. Tonks nodded and took a sip of her lemonade.

"My mum – a Hufflepuff, Sirius – a Gryffindor, and I think there was one more who was in Ravenclaw," Tonks explained.

"Was that why your mother was blasted?" Molly asked. Tonks shook her head.

"As much as it was against tradition, my mum was the favourite – which Bellatrix hated, and Narcissa didn't mind.

It was my mother's marriage to my dad that got her blasted. So Narcissa knew that she had to marry someone her family approved of."

"So that's where Lucius Malfoy comes in?"

"Yes, she met Lucius at a ball held by my grandparents, and it was all arranged, and when Draco arrived, everything was cemented."

"So what about your mother's relationship with her sisters?"

"Well," Tonks started, "mum and Narcissa got on well, even after the blasting. However, we were never allowed to Malfoy Manor, and I was never able to see Draco. Bellatrix, on the other hand, was cruel and vindictive. I guess she finally saw the blasting as revenge for mum being the favourite. Anyway, Bellatrix married a Lestrange and the rest is history."

* * *

That night, Ginny fell asleep and dreamed. It was unlike any dream that she had ever had – any nightmare for that fact. In her dream, she saw herself under the Imperius curse walking around Grimmauld Place. A voice was hissing at her, hissing instructions that would – explained the voice – earn her a reward. Suddenly, a dream-Draco appeared looking paler than normal. He spoke to her, but she couldn't make out the words.

The dream became more bizarre. Harry had returned and was prying her away from Draco – Ginny had become the subject of a tug-o-war. A third entity arrived, which prompted the two young men to let go. Red eyes greeted her brown ones, urging her to do what they wanted of her. She was becoming weak, unable to fight any of the voices.

Ginny awoke with a start, looking around where she had fallen asleep. The study was dark, the candles having died down during the evening. Her Charms homework was stuck to her face from the sweat that her dream had caused. She knew that ink was smudged on her cheek, but she didn't care – it was well past midnight, and everyone was in bed.

"Oi, Weaslebee!" came a sneering voice, weak with pain, "You have ink all over your cheek,"

"Yes I know!" she replied, "Thank you for pointing that out." Ginny tried to walk past Draco, but stopped when he dropped to the floor.

"What are you doing up and about anyway?" she asked, "you should be in bed."

"You'd make a good replacement for Madam Pomfrey; nosey, bossy…"

"Shut up, Malfoy or I'll hex you," Ginny said, sitting down on the floor next to the fallen Malfoy. Draco sighed and allowed himself to be looked over by Ginny.

"I'm taking you back to your room…" Ginny said absently, getting herself up off the floor, and holding a hand out to attempt to pull Draco to his feet. Draco looked at her hand as if it was the tail of a Blast Ended Skrewit.

"I'm not going to bite you, Draco,"

"Don't call me that… you're not my family, nor do I consider you a friend of mine," Draco replied as coldly as he could muster.

"Then what shall I call you? I can't call you Malfoy all the time, now can I?"

"Draconis, if you must call me by my name," he said, trying to make himself seem more regal that his current position allowed.

"Then call me Ginevra, if we're going to be on formal terms here," Ginny replied back, thrusting out her hand once again to help Draco up. He took her hand and was hoisted to his feet. Standing his full height of five foot ten, Ginny felt like a midget – but not so much as she felt when around her brothers, especially Bill, Percy and Ron.

"Bloody hell you're short," Draco drawled deliriously.

"Thanks for stating the obvious," Ginny said, indignantly. She began to push Draco down the corridor to his room.

* * *

_This is the first of 2 or 3 parts, depends on reviews and time. This fic was born from reading the end of the 6th book where Draco is given the choice by Dumbledore to go into hiding. Enjoy!_


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